Unbearable
by MellodramaticLawliet
Summary: Draco and Harry both believe that their feelings for one another are unrequited. Pansy and Hermione know better, though is a truth serum really necessary? Drarry (DracoxHarry) Don't like Don't read


**Hey guys it seems like a long while since I posted anything so enjoy this Drarry one-shot**

 **Merry Christmas as well**

 **Disclaimer: as usual I own none of the characters**

 **Draco P.O.V.**

"Happy Christmas Draco!" Pansy bounced up and down in front of the common room fire holding out a gift wrapped in glimmering green paper, tied at the top with an elaborate silver bow.

Draco glanced around at the empty common room, "Where is everyone?"

Pansy snorted and rolled her eyes, "At breakfast of course, no one wanted to be the one to wake you up so I decided to be the one to wait for you this morning."

"Right." Draco replied sighing.

"You know you really don't seem yourself lately, I mean I get that you're torn up about your parents, and after everything last year but - "

"Pans." he cut her off not unkindly, "No offense but now really isn't the time."

"Whatever." she folded her arms, "But you have to agree that all of this apathy, and sleeping through meals isn't like you at all. I mean you haven't so much as insulted Potter in nearly month!"

Draco caught the flinch before it could register on his face, surely she hadn't noticed anything. It's not as if anyone in their right mind would be able to guess the true reason behind his lethargic behavior. He simply shrugged, hoping to appear nonchalant, "Whatever Pans, I don't want to talk about this now."

She sighed, but instead of arguing she simply held out the present she had already tried offering him, "Here, take this you big ingrate, and at least try to be happy."

Draco chuckled half heartedly and traded her the box he had been hiding behind his back for the one in her outstretched hand. "Merry Christmas Pansy."

"Ahh!" She squealed as she tore away the meticulously wrapped paper to reveal the new necklace he had gotten her.

Draco's gift was slightly more perplexing. "What's this?" he wondered out loud, turning over the potion vial, searching the glass for a name or description of the swirling liquid within.

"Oh it's a hair slickening potion," she replied absently, silently struggling with the clasp to the necklace, "that way you won't have to use that gross, greasy gel every morning."

"Oh," he blinked, "thanks." He uncorked the vial and started to tip it to catch a drop on his finger.

"No!" She shrieked, dropping the necklace in the midst of fastening it, and it slid to the floor as she snatched the vial from his hand, "Don't! You have to drink every drop of it."

"I have to _drink_ it?" Draco asked suspiciously, "Pansy I don't care if you are my best friend, if this is some sort of trick I swear - "

"Draco, darling, who do you think I am?" She arched an eyebrow as if she couldn't believe he expected her of something so juvenile as a practical joke. Right.

Draco just sighed in defeat, already tired and regretting his decision to leave his bed that morning. "Fine, just give it here." He held out his hand and she tentatively placed the vial back into his outstretched fingers. Silently he worked the cork from its' tight setting and downed the contents in a quick gulp. It tasted like rose petals.

Suddenly his throat seemed to close up and his lungs burned with a fire that spread slowly through his bones and into the rest of his body, filling him up with a steady warming sensation that was neither pleasant nor painful.

"Pan-sy! W-what did you g-give me?" He managed to choke out, just managing to stay upright by gripping the back of the couch with one hand, bent nearly double and grasping at his throat with the other, "W-what did you d-do to m-me?"

She just smiled sadly and rubbed his back as he coughed and heaved, "It'll get better in a minute, just remember that I did this for you." She made no move to catch the vial as it slipped from the couch where Draco had dropped it and shattered against the cold stone floor.

 **Harry P.O.V.**

The Golden Trio could be found sitting in the Gryffindor common room in their favorite cushy armchairs by the fireplace, enjoying the warm glow of the flickering flames on the cold December morning; having already opened all of their presents and eaten breakfast with the rest of the diminished number of Hogwarts residents. It seemed that not many wanted to stay in the castle through the holidays that year.

"Eighth year is harder than I thought." Ron grumbled, slouching in his armchair.

"Well honestly Ronald, what did you expect?" Hermione chided. Harry simply rolled his eyes; they had been bickering over this topic nearly nonstop since that morning. It would normally have driven him from the tower but in the peaceful Christmas ambiance, their fighting lacked any sort of concentrated venom. It was more like they were bickering just to bicker. Harry suspected they were doing it for him. Ever since the aftermath of the war, when they had become a couple and Harry and Ginny had split, it seemed as though they were taking painstaking measures to not let Harry feel left out.

On one level he appreciated their efforts, but on another he really just wished he could find someone so that the two of them would stop worrying over him and spend some time to themselves.

"Harry?" Hermione broke him from his wistful reverie, "are you alright?"

"Yeah 'Mione, of course." He tried to make his smile seem genuine, but he somehow doubted that she bought it.

She sighed deeply and caught Ron's eye. The two of them shared a silent exchange, before Ron started, "Look mate, Hermione thinks -" he dropped off as she made a noise of indignation, "Sorry, _we_ think that you've been a little... off lately."

"Off?" Harry frowned, looking between his best friends "What do you mean?"

They shared another silent battle of wills before Hermione this time gave in, "We think you should come to terms with your... erm... crush."

Harry's confused frown shifted to a carefully constructed mask of calm composure, "What crush?"

Hermione glanced at Ron, who shifted uncomfortably and avoided Harry's eyes, "You've been watching Malfoy pretty closely lately Harry..."

"And talking about him nonstop, and speculating, and... well... obsessing," Hermione finished for him, "it's sixth year all over again."

Harry felt his face heat up, "I... I don't..." he faltered, "A crush on Malfoy? You must be joking..."

"Mate..." Ron shook his head slowly, "You're bloody whipped."

Harry sputtered indignantly, a crush he may have, but _whipped_ was going a bit far.

" _Anyway,_ " Hermione interjected, glancing sharply at Ron, "Harry we just think you would be happier if you accepted it, and maybe tried talking to him? I heard he's nicer now. A lot less arrogant and big-headed."

"Yeah," Harry sighed, giving up the fight he knew he couldn't win, "he's been really subdued lately, it's kind of weird."

Ever since they had all started their eighth year together things had been different for the Hogwarts students. The eighth year was much smaller than the rest of the classes, which meant that most of their courses were all taken together, covering the most basic N.E.W.T. level courses, most specialized classes were taken in small groups once or twice a day, so for the most part the eighth years were all grouped together on most days, making it nearly impossible for Draco and Harry to avoid one another.

Throughout their years at Hogwarts the two had unwittingly become attached to one another; at first it had been a schoolyard rivalry, but then slowly began to spiral into something else. Antagonizing one another had become more of a way to get the other's attention rather than to truly hurt them. This strange relationship had come to a head in their sixth year when Draco, fighting the path his parents paved for him, had very nearly come to his breaking point; and Harry, having noticed this, agonized.

After the war, and in the beginning of their eighth and final year at Hogwarts the most each had managed to accomplish was to avoid one another like the plague.

Hermione and Ron had of course noticed, what with all of their worrying over not excluding Harry due to their new couple status. Harry had confessed to them after his split with Ginny that he was in fact bisexual, and after that it didn't take Hermione long to piece together the rest.

The same can be said for Pansy Parkinson, although unlike the noble Gryffindors, she was not above using questionable methods to help Draco fix his bad mood.

"So what can I do?" Harry asked his friends desperately, "He just seems so glum and put off lately... I know it sounds odd but I almost miss his awful sneer."

Hermione nodded knowingly and Ron made a face, "Talk to him, Harry." Hermione encouraged, "What's the worst that could happen?"

"He could hear me." Harry said, only half jokingly, "Besides, I'm responsible for the disgrace of his parents, not to mention the fact that he has hated me consistently for eight years now."

Hermione tutted as though she disagreed, "Harry, you might find that he doesn't hate you as much as you think. Why else would he have tried to save you at the Malfoy Manor? Besides, I doubt he blames you for your role in the war, it's not as if you chose your part."

"You know Hermione, you're really helpful sometimes." Harry said grinning, already formulating a plan to talk to Draco.

Hermione chuckled, "Yeah yeah I kno... wait, sometimes?"

 **Draco P.O.V.**

 _I'm going to kill her_ Draco thought as he clutched at his burning throat. The choking sensation seemed to go on forever, though it was probably less than a minute before he was able to breathe again, and less than five before he was on his feet with a steady breath, searching for his assailant. Sadly though, Pansy had been at least intelligent enough to clear out of the room before he came to enough to hex her out of her skin.

Draco snatched up the box the potion had come in, desperate to find out what that wench had poisoned him with. Instead of a concrete answer he found a note in Pansy's handwriting addressed to him.

Dearest Draco,

If you are reading this, then you have taken the potion. Yay! Step one is complete, next step is to find Potter and sort out your feelings before the both of you explode. Seriously.

\- With Love, Pansy

P.S. Merry Christmas (Please don't murder me)

Draco crumpled up the note and threw it into the fire, watching in satisfaction as the edges burned and curled inward, eating up her stupid loopy handwriting. 'sort out our feelings' Right. Draco would just as soon adopt a blast-ended skrewt.

He ran a hand through his mussed up hair, trying not to think of potions or betrayal, and _especially_ not his 'feelings' for Potter.

That was too much emotion to think about under current circumstances.

If he had to guess, he'd say that the potion was some sort of truth serum, and in talking with Potter Pansy wanted Draco to reveal his true feelings. Like hell that was happening.

All he had to do was avoid Potter for twenty four hours until the potion wore off, and if it didn't then he would go see Slughorn and procure a remedy to whatever the hell was inside of him. Since it was the holidays avoiding Potter shouldn't be too difficult, all he had to do was stay down in the dungeons.

A thousand curses on Pansy Parkinson. He thought bitterly, pacing the common room four hours later, bored out of his mind.

 _Maybe I'll just walk around the halls, as long as I stay in the dungeons Potter won't find me_. He stopped pacing and glanced around, _it beats staying here, especially if another Slytherin shows up._ Draco shuddered, imagining the things that may come out of his mouth around his fellow house mates if he was right about this being a truth serum. And he usually was when it came to potions.

Having made up his mind he stalked over to the exit and sped down the hallway, desperate to put distance between himself and the bottomless pit of boredom that was his dormitory.

As he turned the third corner he felt a light breeze and a hand caught his arm, effectively stopping him in his tracks and turning him around to face the owner of said hand.

Potter. "Fuck." he said out loud, "fUCK." he wrenched his arm away and attempted to turn away.

"Wait!" Potter grabbed his arm again before he could get away.

"Let. Go. Potter." Draco muttered through gritted teeth, "This is the worst possible time for this and I really do NOT want to talk to anyone, especially you, at the moment. So if you do not mind." he wrenched his arm away for the second time and tried to leave again.

"Pansy sent me." Potter called after him.

He stopped dead in his tracks and wheeled around, grabbing Potter by the shoulders, "What did she tell you? Did she say what was in the -" He clapped a hand around his mouth, realizing it was about time for him to shut it before he screwed himself over.

"What was in the what?" Potter scrunched his eyebrows together in a way that made Draco want to either die, or kiss the Boy-Who-Lived right on the spot, "I was on my way here to talk to you anyway and she said you had something to tell me?"

Potter looked at him with emerald eyes that held a strange yet intoxicating mixture of confusion, anxiety, and... hope?

Draco's hands were still clamped tightly over his mouth, he shook his head vigorously and motioned with one hand for Harry to shoo and leave him alone, but the persistent Gryffindor just took a step closer instead, "Why are you covering your mouth?"

Draco tried to stop the words, he truly did, but the second the question left Harry's lips the dam formed by Draco's desperate hands split and released a deluge of words.

"PansygavemeapotionandIthingitwasatruthserumbutIcantbesureandyourethelastpersonIwanttoseerightnowwhydoestheuniversehateme?"

"What?" Harry asked, and Draco thanked his lucky stars that Potter wasn't Ravenclaw, "Would you repeat that more slowly?"

Draco sighed and gave up _might as well get this over with, maybe I'll have time to pitch myself off the astronomy tower before dinner._

"Pansy gave me a potion that I believe may be truth serum, but I can't be sure."

"Oh." Harry blinked.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Your articulate eloquence is truly astounding Potter."

To his surprise, instead of becoming angry as he had expected, Potter chuckled, "You've been so down trodden lately I'd forgotten what it was like to actually hear your voice."

Draco was completely taken aback by this and blurted out, "I missed your voice too." Before he could stop himself.

 _Fucking potion, I'm going to kill her..._ He clamped both hands over his mouth again as Potter's head snapped up in surprise.

"I... what?" Harry's eyes grew hopeful once again, "Draco... do you... like me?"

Draco couldn't keep his eyes from rolling, "'Like you'? Potter, don't be so juvenile. I _liked_ you back in second year, in third year I _cared_ for you, in fourth year I _worried_ for you, in fifth year I _wanted_ you, in sixth year I _hated_ you, last year I don't know what I felt for you, and right now I want to do _unspeakable_ things to you." All of this he said through fingers clamped against his lips, though Potter seemed to still understand the gist of it as he pried Draco's hands away from his mouth and replaced them with his lips.

Draco tensed up, but then relaxed as he realized that the kiss was genuine, not just some sick joke. Actually, to say he relaxed is an understatement; Draco _melted_ under Harry's mouth, sliding his cold hands under Potter's - Harry's - jumper and reveling in the shivers that ran through his body as he traced his spine with his fingers; as Harry gasped against his mouth.

Draco pulled away slowly, tugging on the front of Harry's sweater. "Draco." Harry breathed as he realized were Draco was leading him, Draco felt warmth once again spread to the tips of his fingers, this time truly pleasant, at the sound of his name coming from Harry's mouth in such a way.

They entered the common room to find it just the way Draco had left it, that is to say; empty.

"Perfect. "Draco purred, shoving Harry backwards onto the couch and settling himself on top of his chest, their legs entwined.

"Wait," Harry ran a hand through his hair, "isn't this a little fast? Five minutes ago I thought you hated me and now we're making out in your common room."

Draco traced a finger along Harry's perfect jaw line, "Potter, this has been eight years in the making, so frankly, I don't care."

Harry smiled and leaned up, but stopped partway there, "What if someone walks in?"

Draco very nearly moaned in frustration, "Believe me when I say they've all seen weirder. Now shut up."

Harry slid his hand into Draco's unusually mussed up hair, messing it further, and replied; "Gladly." Before recapturing Draco's lips.

 **Pansy P.O.V.**

Approximately ten minutes later Pansy Parkinson returned to her common room to find an interesting sight awaiting her upon the main couch; Draco lying on top of Boy Wonder himself, both of them so busy with each other's mouths that they didn't realize her presence until she spoke up.

"Ahem." She cleared her throat, Draco flinched but otherwise didn't quit exploring Potter's mouth, "So I see my plan worked," she grinned widely "I'm so happy for you guys!"

Draco leaned up and glared at her, "Parkinson you have five seconds to leave the room before I hex your fingers off one by one." She noted the shade of crimson that Potter's face seemed to have turned and the murderous glint in Draco's eyes and decided to take her leave, determined that her work there was done.

Her last glimpse of the new couple was of Draco's forehead against Harry's as they both grinned stupidly and gazed into each other's eyes.

 _Yep,_ she thought gleefully, _those two are going to be_ _ **unbearable.**_


End file.
